Page 21 of Fallen
9
Ships in the Fog
“CRAEG CAN’T REMAIN here.”
The tension in Mother Shona’s voice made Coira glance up from the psalm she’d been reading. The abbess closed the leather-bound history volume perched upon her knee. She then fixed Coira with a level look.
“It’s been over a week … he has to go.”
Coira let out a soft sigh. “He’s still weak, Mother.”
“That may be, but the abbot is showing no signs of leaving. Just this morning he informed me that he wishes to inspect all the buildings within the abbey to ensure ‘good practices’ are being upheld.
Coira’s belly tightened at this news. “How long before he or his monks venture into the infirmary?”
“Exactly.” The abbess’s small frame bristled with indignation, her brown eyes hard, and her jaw tight. Her outrage at Father Camron’s interference was palpable. The two women sat in the abbess’s hall. It was a cool, grey afternoon, and Vespers was approaching. Often, Mother Shona spent this time alone, but over the past few days, she’d asked Coira to join her.
Coira wondered if it was to keep her out of trouble, and out of the abbot’s way.
“I’m sorry about that incident … with the quarter-staff,” Coira said after a pause. She hadn’t properly apologized to the abbess about that, although she’d meant to. “It was a foolish thing to do. I wasn’t thinking.”
The abbess sighed, leaning back in her chair. Her gaze shifted to where a single lump of peat glowed in the hearth. It was proving to be a cool summer, and without a fire burning, the air inside the hall would have been unpleasantly chill and damp. “I don’t blame ye, Sister … it’s hard to break a routine ye are used to. But unfortunately, Camron is sniffing around like a hound on the scent, looking for anything that will damn me.” Her gaze shadowed. “And sooner or later, he shall find it.”
Alarm fluttered up under Coira’s ribcage. It was unlike the abbess to sound so defeated. “No, he won’t,” she said firmly. “He will stay on a few months, like he did last time, and leave Kilbride empty-handed.” She shut the book of psalms with a ‘snap’. “Ye are right … even if he still has some healing to do, the outlaw has to leave. I will see to it this evening.”
Mother Shona fixed her with a wary look. “Be careful, Sister. The abbot’s monks hide in shadows and listen at open windows and doorways. If ye will take Craeg out of here tonight, ye must wait until well after the witching hour.”
“Make sure to leave the gates ajar,” Coira replied with a nod, her pulse accelerating as she contemplated just how careful they’d have to be. There was only one way in or out of the abbey. “We will have to leave quickly.”
“I will ask Sisters Mina and Firtha to keep watch on the gates tonight,” the abbess replied, her brown eyes narrowing. “They will let ye know when it is safe.”
The two women watched each other for a long moment, and Coira noted the lines of strain on the abbess’s face—lines that hadn’t been there a year earlier. The troubles with Ella and Leanna had taken their toll upon her.
A chill settled in the pit of Coira’s belly then, a foreboding. For years, Mother Shona had managed to keep the rest of the world at bay. Kilbride had grown strong and prosperous under her guidance, and they’d been able to help the folk of this corner of the isle as a result.
But now, the defenses that the abbess had built were starting to crumble. Mother Shona knew it, and Coira felt it too—the sensation that control was slowly slipping through their fingers.
The future of this abbey now teetered upon the edge of a blade, and it would take very little to topple them all off it.
The wind moaned and sighed against the stone walls of the infirmary, and made the roof creak. The noise was reassuring, for Coira had worried that it would be a still evening, one of those nights when the slightest noise traveled. Even so, the waiting was stretching her nerves to breaking point.
Restless, Coira shifted upon the uncomfortable stool and spared a glance at the man who sat upon the edge of the sleeping pallet.
Clad in the cleaned vest and braies he’d arrived in, but with a new woolen cloak about his broad shoulders, Craeg was dressed and ready to go.
He looked as on edge as Coira felt, his hands clenching and unclenching, his jaw tense.
“How much longer?” he asked finally, his voice a harsh whisper.
“Sister Mina will arrive soon,” she replied, hoping that would be the case. “We wanted to wait until we were sureeveryonewas abed.”
“But surely no one is awake at this hour?”
Coira huffed. “Ye would be surprised … the abbot and his monks like to keep us all on our toes.”
Craeg frowned at this news. “He’s determined to find something to discredit the abbess, I take it?”
“Aye … and that’s why ye must go tonight.”
